


the hedgehog's dilemma

by zauberer_sirin



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cunnilingus, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, First Time, Future Fic, Nightmares, Skoulson RomFest 2k15, post-2x10, skoulsonfest2k15, somebody give Skye a hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-13
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2018-03-07 11:30:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3172642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/pseuds/zauberer_sirin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The ground shakes for a third time since San Juan. (Post- 2x10)</p>
<p>Written for the Skoulson RomFest 2k15 -Day Two: Nightmares</p>
            </blockquote>





	the hedgehog's dilemma

"Sir..." Mack starts, his face careful and worried.

They are both in the hallway that leads to the team's bunks, looking at the ground. 

Coulson can feel the vibrations like a low level hum beneath their feet. He knows the integrity of the Playground is not in danger but the thing is enough to wake them up. Some of them, at least.

"I thought she had it under control," Mack says.

Coulson looks towards Skye's door.

"She's _dreaming_ ," he says, sadly. "She's not going to –"

"Bring the whole place down?" Mack finishes. "I hope not."

Coulson gives him a tired look.

"It's not her fault."

"No, I know.," Mack agrees.

The world seems to move subtly again.

"It's happening again," Simmons says, joining them with eyes full of sleep and concern.

"It's fine," Coulson tells her. "We're not in danger."

He realizes this is not usual – but he doesn't want his team to get in the habit of being afraid of their fellow agents. That's Skye's worst nightmare, after all.

"This is the third time," Simmons comments.

"Have you never lived in Los Angeles? This is nothing compared to that."

Both Mack and Simmons narrow their eyes in a similar way at his attempts at humor. Fine.

"I'll go wake her," he tells them.

It's what he's done the previous two times this has happened.

"I can go get a sedative," Simmons offers.

"No," Coulson says, curt. He doesn't want to overuse that, Skye is not some problem they drug their way out of. "It's okay, she just needs to wake up."

They are worried. They care about Skye, that's the good part. Simmons loves her, Mack feels an intimate kinship to her after what happened to him down in the city. But Skye is doing well, and the dreams will eventually stop or they will eventually stop making the ground shake. They all just have to be patient. That includes himself, Coulson guesses, knowing he can only try his best.

"Let me handle this," he tells them. "Go back to your beds."

Skye doesn't need more witnesses, that's why he uses his Director of SHIELD tone, she doesn't need to think she's an inconvenience for the team. If he has to issue orders he will.

"Sir, are you sure?" Simmons asks.

"It's better this way, trust me."

He and Mack exchange a nod. Mack grabs Simmons' arm gently.

"Come on, let's go back."

Simmons hesitates but finally lets go.

Coulson turns around, the vibrant ground almost feels alive under his steps, he can almost feel the tension in Skye's breathing in every shake. She would disagree with him but Coulson doesn't find the whole situation scare, he finds it wondrous.

 

 

"Skye, wake up."

This is the third time it happens in so many weeks.

The third time the Playground shakes lightly, like the whole building felt sympathy, to the rhytm of Skye's worst dreams. The third time with his fingers wrapped around shivering limbs, pulling her back to reality.

The third time he sees her skin covered in sweat and he sees her eyes focus as confusion seeps out of her body and she remembers where she is. Control, consciousness comes back. The ground is firm once more.

"It happened again?" she asks, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

Coulson nods.

He touches her shoulder. Skye squirms a bit.

"It's okay, you're awake," he says and she relaxes into the touch.

Awake Skye knows she's in absolute control. She was a fast learner even when it came to that, managing to keep her _gift_ under control in days. It's unconscious when she still slips. Coulson has his theories – he feels certain she wouldn't really hurt anyone even in her sleep. Skye is not inclined to test that theory. She'll have to do this her way.

"Is everyone...?" she starts, like the last two times.

He doesn't let her finish, like last time.

"They're all okay. It was nothing. Only Mack and Simmons woke up."

"And you," she points out.

"And me."

She glances up at him.

"The nightmares, you were down there... you were the first to see. How come you don't have them?"

He drops his hand from her shoulder to her hand.

"I'm sure I'd have them, if I were getting any sleep," he confesses, trying to sound light.

"I'm sorry, I didn't–"

"No, it's not you."

"I see."

Not that he needs to close his eyes to see the scene again. Mack helping him to one of the walls of the temple, while the others were already falling down, Raina gone or buried or escaped, what was left of Trip, his clothes and Coulson understanding immediately what had happened, reading it in Skye's face, her voice – _I don't know how to stop it_ – as the sky kept falling down on them.

"Coulson."

He comes back to this moment, horrible in a different way. He squeezes Skye's hand, though he's not sure it's to comfort _her_.

"Can you take me to the Bus?" she asks him. "To the cell?"

 

 

This is the only place Skye felt safe for the first few days after San Juan. The vibranium alloy of the walls the only thing that made her feel safe. _Luck_ she had said with grim humor. The coincidence had felt too big for him to comment.

Skye locked in a cell that sometimes felt like someone had built specifically with her in mind. Skye, who thrives among people, who loves people, kept away from people for their safety. Skye and her self-imposed exile. 

He hates this place, hates walking Skye here.

He sits with her on the matress she insists they keep here, in case she needs to spend the night.

He hates this plane.

"You want to tell me about it?"

"Nothing new, really," Skye says. "It's just a replay of the whole thing. But sometimes I do better. Sometimes I don't go down there and only Raina dies. Sometimes I manage to keep Trip away from the temple, I don't get my powers at all."

She shrugs. It's more cruel – all those dreams with a happy ending, just to wake up to this.

"You can't think like that."

"But I should have stopped Raina."

"And I should have stopped you from going down there."

"If I had stopped my father sooner you wouldn't have been too hurt to stop me."

He shakes his head. He will have this conversation as many times as necessary, he swears. He's not going to give up.

"You can't do that," he tells her. "You can't start unravelling everything. If you do and you get past Ward's selling us out allowing Raina to have her moment in the sun, then..."

"Then what?" she asks. He doesn't reply. This shouldn't be about his guilt. He knows Skye, he knows what her generous reaction will be, and that would only make things worse. "Then what, Coulson?"

"Then we could arrive to the conclusion that – I sent you to that city."

"What? That's –"

"I was set on getting there before Hydra, even though I knew it was dangerous for you. I was almost obsessed with finding it."

Skye arches an eyebrow at him. She looks more like herself as she scolds him.

"Please tell me you haven't been torturing yourself over that because that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

"I've been torturing myself about many things," he says with a smile.

Skye smiles back.

They stay like that for a while, sitting next to each other, touching – Skye wouldn't say but Coulson gets the feeling that she gets less anxious about touching him than other people, that she must have so theories about that, maybe, about the GH drug still affecting both of them. Maybe it's just familiarity or the fact that Coulson was the first person who touched her, held her, talked to her after she changed. He doesn't know. He needs it, too, make sure she's okay.

And if he knows Skye she is not going to get much sleep tonight, he's willing to stay in this dark-walled room as long as she wants him here.

"I've been thinking about Miss Hutchins a lot lately," he tells her.

Skye lifts her gaze. "Hannah?"

"Yes. I've been thinking about what you said then, how for those with great empathy causing the loss of lives must be devastating. How it must have destroyed her."

"Yeah," she agrees, dropping her gaze again.

"Skye. I don't know what the Kree's plan was and I can understand how you wouldn't think this is a gift, it's not. But if someone as selfish and evil as Raina can get this kind of power, it makes sense to me that someone like you would too. The universe balancing itself."

"Coulson..."

He turns to her and she is already staring at him. Their eyes meet. There's something new in Skye's.

She lifts her hand to his hair, brushing her fingertips across his sideburn. Coulson is suddenly very aware of her proximity. He runs his hand over the spot as well. "I think I've gotten more gray hairs there of late."

He tries to be light and it's a bad joke. He watches Skye shake her head gently and he drops his gaze.

She leans forward very slowly. Her lips brushes Coulson's mouth before he feels the warmth covering him. He parts his lips a bit and Skye slides her tongue in carefully. No, he's not going to push her away, he knows that much and Skye should too, he doesn't even think about pulling away for a second, notions of propriety, professionality don't even enter his mind; he loves her and it should have been pretty self-explanatory when he went down to that goddamned city with no idea of ever getting out alive, just wanting to be with Skye. So he lets her cover his mouth with hers. It's hot like a fevered dream, and soft.

The kiss grows deeper and his hand skimms over her stomach until his thumb slides under the fabric of her top, hot skin under his palm, it feels so good. 

Skye pushes him away gently.

He can't speak, just watch her stare at him, touch her fingers to her lips and then his, like she's amazed at the connection. She grabs the collar of his t-shirt and presses her face against his neck, drawing him into a half embrace.

"We shouldn't do this right now," Skye says.

"No," he agrees, slipping his hand from under her sweater.

He's half disappointed, half relieved, grateful for Skye's sanity. He wants this, but he wants this for the long run, he doesn't want to risk hurting their chances for a moment's hunger.

She leans back, looking at his face. He nods again.

But then Skye wraps her fingers around his shoulder, pulling him in close.

"Yeah but can we do this right now?" she asks him. "Can we do this anyway?"

Coulson doesn't reply. He scoops her in his arms a bit and brings their mouth together again. This time is different, there's more intention, less shocked inertia. He grabs her head and her neck while Skye mutters _thanks_ against his mouth like he's doing her a fucking favor and she climbs over his leg, propping herself on her knees so that Coulson's hand can slip further away under her clothes.

She lets out a pained sound of release when his hand cups her breast. It's needy and desperate. He guesses she must need this, not just emotionally but physically. He remembers the worst moments of his carving mania – the very precise kind of frustration all that forced self-control brought. He can relate. He hopes he can still relate to Skye somehow, he doesn't want to leave her completely alone.

And she's not just greedy with his touch, she's also greedy touching him. Her hands are soon tugging at his pajama pants, slipping under the waistband of his boxers.

She slides her mouth over his, smiling, "You're already hard," she groans, like she's surprised at the fact.

"Oh, god, Skye, of course. Skye."

"I like it when you say my name," she says, drawing her thumb across the top of his cock. "It makes me feel like that's what I am. I'm Skye, right?"

"Skye," he repeats, pressing his mouth to her temple.

"I'm not my father's daughter. I'm not these dangerous powers."

He can't bear her sadness, her doubt. He grabs her hand and pulls her away; he grabs her hips and pushes her down against the matress. Skye's eyes crinkle a little at the corners and then Coulson starts pulling her pants down and she seems to get it, the urgency to give her something, and she arches her hips off the bed to help him.

It takes all he has not to simply sink his tongue into her like he wants, to just make her forget about anything else, and he forces himself to build up to it, kissing the inside of her thigh until he can tell Skye is becoming impatient as well. She twists her fingers into his hair as he finally starts sucking on her clit. He hasn't done this in a long, hasn't let himself be this close to someone in a long time, he hopes whatever is left in him is good enough.

"God, Coulson, what are you doing."

He looks up from between her legs.

"I'm saying your name. That was the K."

She frowns.

"Come here."

"I haven't finished."

"I need you to come up here right now."

She tugs harder at his hair and Coulson follows the order, meeting her hungry mouth on the way up, tasting her twice.

When he pulls away for a moment Skye stares at the wall next to her, like studying it. Coulson knows what she must be thinking. This prison. And what brought them here in the first place. He touches her cheek, getting her to look at him and his love for her and not at her cage.

"I'd do anything to stop the nightmares, you know that, don't you?" he asks.

Suddenly it's very important to him that she knows, he'd do anything for her, he's already done anything for her.

"I know," she says, voice old and tender, fingers playing with his hair. "But I think that's well outside your power."

"I'm sorry."

She shakes her head.

"But you can do this," she says, grabbing his hand and bringing it between their bodies.

Coulson works two fingers into her and watches her lips part, watches her stare right back at him like a challenge.

"Please," she asks him. "More."

"More what, Skye? Yes, tell me what you want."

It's already established he'd give her anything.

"More..." she narrows her eyes a moment when he crooks one finger. "... of you."

He can definitely give her that.

He tries not to push all the way inmediately and even though she's wet already the moment comes as a surprise for both of them. Skye buries her face into the hollow of his neck, wrapping her arms around his back, holding him so close he has no other option but to go slow. He slides his cock almost completely out of her and then pushes again, listening for the good part, the hitching in her breathing, watching her cheeks flush with what he hopes is joy and if not, at least pleasure.

She eventually lets go of his neck and leans back against the pillow, looking up at Coulson's face.

She rests one hand over his heart, over his scar. "Can I see?"

Coulson nods, helping her pull his t-shirt over his head.

"It's beautiful," Skye whispers, pressing her fingertips against the scarred skin.

He takes her hand in his, feeling like his body can't contain what he feels for this young woman and never could, he takes her hand and presses his mouth against the palm, like she is something sacred.

 

 

"You need to sleep," Skye is saying. Coulson squeezes his eyes shut, pressing his face against her hipbone. "I didn't know you weren't sleeping. I'm sorry."

"I don't want to leave you alone," he says.

He can't follow her into her dreams, he can't protect her there, can't suffer with her.

"It's all right," she says, drawing lazy shapes over his shoulderblade. The bed is actually not that comfortable. He can't believe they keep sticking Skye in here. He would beg her not to do that anymore, even if the whole building must fall. "I can handle the nightmares. I will, eventually. On my own."

He holds her legs tightly, wrapping his fingers around her knee. He loves Skye's strength for the same reason he resents a world that taught it to her. He meant it – he wants to believe the universe should balance itself. The universe owes a lot to this girl. 

"But I think it'll be easier knowing you'll be there when I wake up," she says in a voice that makes Coulson's heart ache. "Because you'll be here, right?"

He looks up at her, resting his chin on her thigh. He doesn't mean to be cruel but he can't help but smile at her absurd question. He stops her fretting hands, laced fingers, and he kisses her bare hip.

"I'll be here."

"And it'll be safe," she says, like trying to convince herself.

Coulson guesses one thing is fucking and another is letting herself be unconscious, unwillingly surrender precious control, with another person in the same room.

"It's as you said," she goes on. "And I've been thinking about Hannah too. I've never wanted to hurt anyone in my life."

He knows. Skye's worst nightmare. And it's already come true. He slides up, rests his head on Skye's stomach.

"I know." 

"But I don't want to be cut off from people," she says. She looks around. "I don't want to stay in a cell because it's safe."

"You don't have to."

She dips her head, kisses his mouth at a strange, lovely angle, her arms around his chest.

"And I think I have to start with you," she tells Coulson, brushing her lips against his forehead. "Because you're the person I can least afford to hurt – you are the one I need to keep closer. If you want to stay, that is."

Coulson is glad they have done this tonight, and for all the wrong reasons they did it. He thinks being sensible and proper and waiting wouldn't have helped at all.

"We should go to sleep then," he tells her, because of course he wants to stay.

Skye nods in agreement, lying down besides him. They say goodnight, say some private words of confession, and after a while Coulson feels her breathing start to even against the back of his neck. He decides Skye will have _this_ , even if he has to cheat death and the universe for it, even if the world starts to shake.


End file.
